The Other Side
by thenerdgeek
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Batman and Robin. But what if Joker took Robin under his wing? After the vat of chemicals changes him, Joker takes Robin as his sidekick, and together they wreak havoc, mischief, and mayhem. But where is Batman, and why is Robin after him? Better yet, why is all of Gotham terrified of him? Alternate dimension. K for safety.
1. The Beginning That Never Started

**The Other Side**

**AN: IMPORTANT! This is my first fanfic, and I would appreciate it if everyone understood something. This story is something my friend and I came up with and is more of a test run for a similar story she is planning to write. However, her story will be with her own characters; not Batman and crew. Critiquing is appreciated, but please, no flames. The characters will NOT be the same as the original. Also please understand the story is more about day-to-day life. There will be occasional crimes to be solved, but I am not very good at writing such things, so this is more of what happens behind the scenes.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, or any of the other characters; however, my friend and I do own the general stupidity that occurs in this story.**

Prologue: The Beginning That Never Started

Rookie Detective Jack Napier had been down on his luck for the past few years. After all, nobody wanted a happy-go-lucky personality with unorthodox methods working murder and hostage cases. His bumbling and borderline imbecilic behavior made people reluctant to hire him on for anything- not that he had that personality anymore these days. Careless is the word that describes him best now. His Work was the only thing he had left to live for, and that was becoming scarcer by the day. A looming depression threatened to destroy him if he couldn't find SOME form of humor in his life, and soon.

Having been rejected for a case yet again, Jack sought out something that could bring back some happiness. He had found a poster stuck to a lamppost, advertising the Haley's Circus performing in town. If anything could lift his spirits, it was the lights and laughter of the big top- Especially the clowns. It would have appeared that the powers that live above were finally smiling on him.

Or rather, not…

For all the joy and laughter that each performance in that carnival house could give, no one would have expected what the finale would bring. A family of acrobats took the center ring and wooed the audience with their death defying acts without the safety of a net. This final act would not end in applause.

Jack stared in horror as the two acrobats fell to their death as their only son, Richard Grayson, watched in stunned silence from his high post. As the crowd hurried to the crushed couple on the ground, screaming and panicking, Jack looked up at the boy who still clung to the support beam of the trapeze. The boy had just become an orphan.

The detective suddenly felt a tug at his heart and clutched his chest when the circus boy screamed in protest at his parents' death. He felt for the boy. He recognized that pain.

Detective Napier slowly worked his way through the crowd, not to see the two fallen performers. No, he'd seen enough of that. He kept his eyes locked on the boy and made his way to reach him.

"Chaos seems attracted to me!" Thought the detective as a flood of sorrow drowned his mind. The world slowed around him and his vision became blurry. "Why did I even come here? I didn't want to see this. This is just more of the problems I already have."

Jack froze in his thinking. The boy's mournful crying began to echo in his ears, and it became all he could hear. The detective shook his head to regain his mind and to realize- he was on the trapeze' support beam. By some unseen force, the detective had walked through the crowd and had climbed to the trapeze where the young Richard Grayson was perched.

"Uh-oh! I know I do things on impulse, but now what?" Jack thought. He sheepishly reached his hand out to touch the weeping child. "At the very least, I'm up here. I can't walk away from this if I wanted to."

"Here, Boy," said the detective with a broken voice. "Richard is your name, right?"

Richard's body was pressed against the pole with his face turned away. Jack's cracked voice, while startling, did not move the boy and he said nothing in response.

Clearing his throat, Jack tried again. "Let me help you down."

Still, Richard did not move. He only continued to cry relentlessly.

Jack cleared his throat, almost choking on his own tears. "Ok, ok. Don't sweat it. I can wait…" With that statement, he pulled himself onto the perch next to Richard and waited.

From down below, the Gotham Police Department and other emergency response teams were hard at work clearing out the crowds and removing the bodies that were Richard's parents. Commissioner Gordon looked up at the trapeze support beam that Richard and Detective Napier were still occupying.

"Are they ever coming down?" Gordon pondered out loud to Detective Harvey Bullock. "They can't stay up there all night, can they?"

Bullock marched up next to the commissioner, adjusting his fedora as he scoffed, "Ehh~ knowing that clown, he's probably just stuck up there with the kid."

Gordon gave Bullock and scowl. Scouting to a fireman crew he called, "We need a ladder! Pronto!"

In the span of the same hour, the boy had gone from grasping the support pole to clinging to the detective. There wasn't much else to hang onto after all. "Heh-heh…" Jack forced a chuckle. "Funny how I don't have kids to say I'm good with them, yet you little monsters are always sticking to me…" A short, mouse-like giggle was Richard's response.

Jack checked the ground bellow to see a fire truck heading their way. He had had enough time to think over what he needed to do once he and Richard were both on the ground. "Richard," Jack said, looking down as him. "I-I have a- friend. And… He's a good friend. I think you'd like him. He won't mind company. Would you- like to meet him?"

Richard looked up at Jack with question and then looked down at the ground far bellow. His lips trembled to create and answer, but his stuttering was cut short as a fire truck latter rose in front of them. Richard and Detective Napier were brought safely to the ground, whereupon Richard's knees caved and nearly dropped him on his face. The sobbing had stopped. But all the pain was still flowing quietly from his eyes.

With his mind made up, he walked over, explaining who he was, and what he was willing to do to help. The performers looked at each other, and then at their bosses' son, and agreed to send him with Jack, seeing as they would be busy trying to settle affairs at the circus and would be unable to be around for him much.

They helped him pack, and watched as Jack led the shock-ridden twelve-year-old boy down the street to safety. Convincing the GPD to let Richard go with him rather than the social services almost became a whole different nightmare for Detective Napier. Fortunately, Gordon new that detail as well, and greatly preferred the path of least resistance right then.

District Attorney Harvey Dent grumbled as the knocking on his door became a frantic pounding. Only one person was crazy enough to come calling at 11 p.m.

He opened the door, prepared to shout his frustrations at Jack, but froze when his saw his friend's tired, haunted face- or rather- more haunting than usual. Such an expression of true depression and wretchedness could only be the result of something never meant to be seen.

Before he could say a word, Jack spoke quietly, "Harv, I need your help."

Harvey froze. Out of all the stupidest nicknames Jack would call him, _Harv_ was a name reserved only for the most desperate of times. He was about to be asked a favor -A _personal_ favor.

Eyebrows creased as Harvey gathered his words, "A-anything, Jack. What happened?"

He watched as Jack stepped slightly to the side and put his arm around the shoulders of an equally haunted child. Eyes widening in realization, Harvey knew that whatever had happened to this boy, brought up bad memories for Jack.

"This is Richard Grayson. He's the son of the trapeze artists from the circus that was in town. They're-"He paused as his gaze trailed off momentarily. "He has nowhere to go. Could you- Could he- stay here? At least, until other arrangements can be made? You know the mess I'm in, or I'd keep him with me. I don't want him alone at the circus."

Harvey gave a small, sad sigh and looked from Jack's pleading eyes down to the scarred eyes of the child next to him. He couldn't turn them away. How could he? Jack was a living pain some days. Sure, Jack had given him plenty of headaches over the years, but as one of Jack's best friends (likely, only friend) he understood why. As for the boy staring blankly next to Jack? The poor kid looked just like the rookie P.I.

There was no reason, no desire, for him to say no.

"O-of course. Come in, I'll- um- perhaps you should both stay here for the night…

Jack gave him a grateful, if sad smile, and ushered Richard inside towards the stairs as Harvey shut the door. They managed to get Richard to eat a light meal, and into bed, and then retired themselves, with Jack finding his usual comfy place in the basement.

But there was no sleep for Jack. With his mind spinning at high speed with no indicator it would be slowing, he began to wonder and imagine what would follow after tonight. He replayed the night's events in his mind, eventually only able to think of one frightening, idea.

While he had sat up on the trapeze with Richard earlier, he had the time to look around. There was plenty to see from that height, but what now struck him as odd was the state of the trapeze set, itself. One cord of the trapeze swing was detached from the top bar, yet the cord was perfectly in tact. There was no sign of fault in the line, or any damage visible. It appeared the one side of the trapeze had merely slipped off its shroud shackle.

"Wait-" Jack sat up on his cot with an epiphany. "The trapeze was completely in tact, even the shackle that held it up was attached… There was no damage at all." He scratched his cheek thoughtfully and continued. "It looked like that swing slipped off its hinge altogether! What are the chances of someone forgetting to tighten that down?"

In all his wondering, he soon could only think of one word-

Murder…

How Jack came to think of this single word, he himself did not know, there was no proof for such a thing. But in the dark of the night, he was beginning to feel he had a new reason to wake up in the morning. Despite the past few hours' horrifying outcome, Jack felt a large smile stretch over his face as he thought out loud,

"This is going to be fun."

**AN: Like I said, this is my first fanfic, but go ahead and review! But please, no swearing!**


	2. Chapter 1: The Birth of Insanity

**AN: First of all, thank you to those of you who decided to follow this story. Secondly, I'm sorry about the long wait, when I wrote the Prologue, I was getting ready to go back to Florida for college. Now I'm back at college, my classes take priority, but I will attempt to write as much as I can, but please be aware, I have to be in the mood to write, or I just get bored. But I promise I will try.**

Chapter 1

The Birth of Insanity

Harvey wasn't sure what was worse: Richard still being withdrawn despite the fact that it had been nearly nine months since his parents died, or the fact that Jack had gone missing; resulting, oddly enough, in Richard withdrawing even further.

Jack had disappeared almost two months ago. Harvey had cashed in some favors to have some detectives go out to find him and even hired other professionals to look for him. So far nothing had been found.

When Jack had first brought Richard to Harvey, he had stayed for a couple of weeks to keep an eye on him, then after he had gone back home, made it a point to come check on him at least once every week, if not more. He had kept this up for over half a year, and the last time Harvey had seen him, Jack promised to be back the next day to watch Richard while Harvey went to participate in a trial. But he never showed up, and Harvey was forced to bring Richard with him.

At first, Harvey was upset, thinking Jack had either forgotten or had been delayed somehow. Jack was easily distracted. But as the days went by with no call and no luck in trying to contact his friend, Harvey began to think maybe he had finally gotten a case, and was either under cover or had lost himself in the case.

But he quickly discarded that idea. If he was going to be under cover, then why would he promise to be at Harvey's place the next day? And if he had gotten a case, he probably would've called or come by to throw a mini party to celebrate the fact that someone was giving him a chance. So, no, it couldn't be either of those.

Then what happened? Harvey simply didn't know.

But he was concerned about Richard. About a month after Jack brought him, Harvey officially adopted Richard. He was no longer just a D.A.; he was now the father of a broken young boy.

With Jack, Richard had seemed to come out of the fortress he'd built around himself just enough to give Harvey hope that he might be starting to heal. He had taken the boy to a trauma counselor, but it didn't help him like Jack did. Harvey ended up cancelling all other appointments in the light of that revelation.

But when Jack disappeared, Richard almost completely shut down. He stopped talking altogether except when he cried into Harvey's shirt in the wake of the occasional nightmare. He didn't eat much, he had trouble sleeping, and Harvey couldn't get him to stop staring blankly out the window or into space.

He wasn't coping well.

Harvey looked over at his adopted son, who was once again just staring out into the street. He was rail thin, and pale, with dark bags under his eyes. Harvey was out of his depth. He didn't know what to do to help him.

Tomorrow he would call that trauma counselor again.

He turned to the t.v. to check the news, and almost immediately regretted that decision. There on the screen, was a picture of his missing friend, with the words: "SMALL TIME DETECTIVE DIES IN CHEMICAL PLANT".

The newscaster was explaining that Jack had been seen in the plant chasing someone. Someone who at some point turned and confronted Jack, and during the scuffle, pushed him into a vat of unstable chemicals sitting under the walkway they were standing on. The suspect got away while workers at the plant rushed to try and help Jack. When they finally were able to open drain the container, they found no body; Jack was assumed dead. Eaten alive by the deadly chemicals.

Harvey sat heavily on a chair, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that his friend was dead. The news had stated that the accident had occurred the day Harvey went to the trial. That would certainly explain his absence that day.

He heard a noise behind him, and turned to see Richard looking at the screen. Then before Harvey could move a muscle, he turned and ran upstairs where the sound of a door slamming rang through the house. Harvey knew how he felt. That's what he wanted to do too.

They had never been very close, but they had been there for each other in the darker moments of their lives. Harvey had counted Jack as one of the most dependable people he had ever met. Now he was gone, and Harvey wished he had taken the time to know Jack just a little bit better.

He sighed and hung his head. Mourning like he wanted to wouldn't help anybody. He was now the sole caretaker for Richard. He couldn't afford to mope. He had a boy to take care of.

Turning the t.v. off, Harvey stood and made his way up the stairs with the intent to start bringing Richard out of his shell by offering him comfort over the news of Jacks apparent demise. He had seen enough death; it was time to show him the life ahead of him.

Harvey tiredly made his way to the coffee maker sitting next to the stove. He started it up, then leaned against the counter, still half asleep, to wait for it to finish. He let his eyes drift closed for a moment, jumping when the coffee maker dinged, signifying that it was done. He looked at the clock and realized he had fallen asleep on his feet for about ten minutes.

He grabbed his coffee and turned, thinking of sitting down to read the newspaper, only to freeze when he noticed the silhouette of someone standing on the other side of the kitchen. He shot his hand out and hit the light switch, then jumped several feet in the air screaming at the sight of a bitter clown blocking the only exit, seemingly glaring at him. As his mug clattered to the ground, Harvey ran towards the phone, hoping to punch the numbers 9-1-1 before the intruder reached him.

He managed to type 9-1 when the clown opened his mouth and a familiar nickname spilled out,

"Two-face,"

Harvey froze, then slowly turned toward the clown as it continued to speak,

"I never knew you had the ability to hit a high C."

And with that, the clown started to cackle, a laugh that came out slightly broken and disjointed, making it sound somewhat evil and a lot crazy (AN: Think the laugh from Batman The Animated Series). As the clown's laugh continued to echo in the small kitchen, it grew in intensity and pitch, as well as force, until the clown was left bent over double, with a high pitched, crazed laugh that seemed relentless.

Harvey would have been a little more than slightly creeped out by this, had the words the clown had spoken not been running in loops in his head. Only one person on the planet called him Two-face, at least, to his face. Harvey had a split personality that liked to make itself known when he was frustrated or angry. He tried to keep it under wraps, telling no one but the one person who had witnessed the switch over firsthand. Said person then gave him the nickname Two-face as a joke.

The same person who was supposed to have died in an accident in the chemical plant nearly a month ago.

"Jack?"

The clown abruptly stopped laughing as his head snapped over to face Harvey. He straightened and simply looked sadly at the D.A. Harvey looked properly at him for the first time.

His skin seemed to be permanently stained white, and looked….wrong, somehow; almost like it was fake. His lips were an unnatural shade of red, and his hair was now dyed an slick, electric green and his nails were pitch black. And worst of all, his eyes looked unstable and haunted; almost like he had a mental breakdown.

In the simplest of descriptions: his friend looked like a clown that had just been thrown out of the circus and didn't know how to handle it.

"Jack's dead, Two-face. But I'm still alive and kickin'! Or at least, I would be, but I left my kicking shoes in the river!"

At this, Jack started cackling again, barely stopping to breathe as he laughed at what he seemed to think was a good joke. Harvey could only watch in horror as his friend appeared to be fighting to regain his lost sanity.

After several minutes of laughter, Jack finally wound down and then turned to face Harvey once again when the D.A. spoke,

"Jack, what happened to you? Where have you been?"

Jack turned serious and after a moment's thought, answered, "I'm not really sure. I'm going to guess it was the goo that I was pushed into that did it," Jack focused on Harvey again, this time with a half-crazed grin, "But I think this is a better look for me, don't you?"

And at this, Jack started cackling again, but with a bit more sanity this time. Harvey just stared at the man, realizing the surprise at falling into the chemicals, the pain of the alteration caused by the chemicals he went through, and the utter shock at his new appearance had addled his brain.

He was witnessing the result of everything Jack had gone through: the birth of insanity.

His friend was truly crazy. He needed help.

But what help could he get? As far as the world was concerned, Jack Napier was dead. They had even had a small funeral for him. And if he "came back from the dead", only proving himself insane, he'd be locked up in Arkham. Harvey wouldn't be able to stand that.

Not to mention his pretty gruesome appearance would absolutely terrify any potential psychiatrists willing to see him. Then there was the potential of him being locked up as doctors fought to make him at least _look _normal again. No, he had to stay out of sight.

He had to stay here, where Harvey could keep an eye on him.

"Jack, I think you should stay here."

His crazy friend looked up at him, "And why would I do that?"

"Think about it, Jack. The rest of the world thinks you're dead. Your landlord repossessed your apartment, I have your computer and personal items, and the rest of your stuff was auctioned off. Where would you go? And I don't think it would be a good idea to let Gotham know you are alive. It wouldn't end well for you. I can set you up in the basement."

Jack stood looking at the ground, with a thoughtful expression on his face. After a minute of thought, he looked back up.

"I will agree on two conditions….I get my computer and other stuff that you got, and I get to decorate the basement to my specifications."

Without a second thought, Harvey replied, "I'll go get your stuff."


	3. Chapter 2: Challenge Accepted

Chapter 2

Challenge Accepted: Richard's Laugh

Part 1

It wasn't until Richard came down three hours later for breakfast that Harvey thought about how this would affect him. And by then it was too late. Jack had been downstairs, moving into the small space, and rearranging it to his liking. Harvey had helped for a while, and then decided to go back upstairs for some coffee.

He had just finished making his wakefulness in a cup, and was leaning against the counter sipping the hot beverage when Richard came in, and began to pour a bowl of cereal. Harvey thought nothing of it at first, and was going to comment on the fact that he rarely saw Richard for breakfast when he suddenly heard Jack's footsteps on the stairs. His eyes widened in horror, and rushed to the stairs to stop his friend, only to lose his footing on the first step in his haste, and go tumbling down into the basement.

Jack, who had seen the D.A.'s overstep, very helpfully stepped to the side so as not to impede Harvey's descent.

"Really, Two-face, if you needed to get into the basement so badly, it would be much easier if you took the stairs properly."

Jack turned around and continued his trek into the kitchen and sat down at the table, feeling exhausted. He hadn't slept well for the past several nights, and had spent the last of his energy on getting settled into Harvey's basement. At the sound of a small _clink_, he looked up into the startled face of Richard.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence. _**Who's the kid?**_ Joker thought.

Without taking his eyes off of Richard, Jack turned his head to the side, and shouted into the open stairwell door, his voice shooting up an octave halfway through the first word.

"HarvEEYYY! Is there something you want to tell me?! Did you become a father while I was away?"

Harvey trudged up the steps heavily, rubbing his head. When he reached the kitchen, he glanced up at Jack, giving him a perplexed look. But before he could say anything, Richard pushed away from the table as Jack and Harvey watched, and left the room. After a moment of quiet, the sound of feet pounding up the stairs in the hall could be heard, followed shortly by the slam of a door.

"Was it something I said?"

Harvey looked back at his disfigured friend in disbelief.

"It was more like what you didn't say."

Jack looked confused. What was that supposed to mean?

Harvey walked over to the table, watching Jack carefully.

"You don't remember? You're the one who brought him here. His parents were the owners of the circus that was here almost a year ago. They died in an accident, and you brought him here so he wouldn't be left in the foster care system."

Jack looked past Harvey, lost in thought, trying to remember. But he couldn't. He found that was the most shattering and life-altering thing about his accident: he had lost a lot of memories. He looked down at the table.

"I don't remember much before the accident. I don't know exactly what the clown goo did to me, but it took a lot of my memories with it," he said sadly.

"Oh, well, that won't help at all."

Harvey reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. Richard had gotten so attached to Jack after his parents died, and when Jack disappeared, he seemed to have given up on living life. But now that Jack had returned, looking like a living corpse, Richard had just gotten a shock. On top of that, Jack didn't know who he was.

That was not going to help matters one bit.

"You're sure I'm the one who brought him here?"

"Absolutely. The two of you bonded after that. He almost seemed to accept you as a second father figure."

Jack looked back at the door Richard had walked through. He didn't remember the boy, and he certainly didn't know what he had been going through the last two months, but he did see that his presence had shaken him up and he seemed to have some sort of deep hidden sorrow.

"He doesn't seem very carefree for a former circus performer. Surely my absence couldn't have given him that long face. It rivals a giraffe's neck."

Harvey shook his head as he grabbed his forgotten coffee. His friend's new and strange sense of humor was going to give him headaches.

"He doesn't really smile much anymore. In fact, I don't think I've seen him smile since the last time you were here. He never laughs anymore," Harvey said taking another sip of his coffee.

Jack looked back at his friend, "Reeeaaalllly? Well, we can't have that, now can we? I think I might be able to crack him," Jack rubbed his hands together.

"Challenge accepted."

* * *

Richard sat on the window seat in his room, just staring out the window. It was a beautiful day; it was a day he had often taken advantage of and gone to help with the circus animals and work hard on learning every trick anyone was willing to teach him in their spare time. He wanted to one day be the best circus performer ever, being able to do almost anything during a show.

But that was before his parents died.

It had taken him a while to function properly after their deaths. And Jack, the detective who had taken him under his wing had been there all along the way. He had held him in the middle of the night when he had nightmares about that fateful show, he coaxed him out of his room and into doing something productive with his day, and had even taken him on a case he got from someone who had been robbed. Eventually, he had come out of the depression he had fallen into, and had come to think of Jack as his best friend and surrogate father. Yes, Harvey Dent was his guardian and caretaker, and Richard would never be able to thank him enough for taking him in instead of sending him to foster care. But it was Jack that Richard had actually bonded with more closely.

And while Jack could never replace his real father, he did a good job of filling that hole in his heart. They had begun to just spend most of their time together when Jack wasn't working on a case. On good days, they would go out to a ball game, or go to the park and toss a ball around, and even went out and got ice cream. Once, Jack had convinced Richard to show him how to do some basic acrobatics.

And then Jack disappeared.

Harvey had tried to keep them both positive, saying that maybe he had an emergency to take care of, or maybe he had to go under cover and forgot to tell them. But Richard knew the truth; Jack was gone. Missing. Most likely, dead. And Richard would never see him again.

When the news report on the t.v. confirmed it, Richard hadn't been all that surprised, but it hurt just the same. More so than when he lost his biological parents; yes, he missed them greatly, but now he had begun to wonder if he was just cursed. Doomed to lose everyone important in his life. Would Harvey be next?

Life was just a struggle after that. There was no way of knowing if/when Harvey was going to kick the bucket next. He determined to be extra vigilant.

But just now, in the kitchen, Richard found that his fears were unfounded. Jack wasn't dead. He was alive and well.

Well, as alive and well as a corpse could be.

That was his first impression upon seeing the ghastly sight in front of him at the table. And he had very nearly screamed when the corpse moved to look at him after he dropped his spoon into his bowl. Then he saw that the creature staring at him in surprise resembled more of a disgruntled clown.

A clown that looked like death warmed over.

Then the clown spoke.

It was a voice he had heard for months and come to rely on until the owner was ripped cruelly from the world. A voice he thought he would never hear again.

Richard had then looked more closely and noticed the features of the face in front of him and realized that it was, indeed, Jack. But he had no time to celebrate the fact that he had returned from the dead; even if he looked like the stuff nightmares was made of.

Jack didn't recognize him. That fact alone hurt enough to make him wish Jack had never saved him from the foster care system. His friend may have been brought back from the dead, but he wasn't the same man as when he left. Richard still wouldn't have his surrogate father anymore.

Just then the door opened behind him. Heavy footsteps stopped at the edge of the door, but Richard didn't look up. He had come to the conclusion that if he didn't acknowledge anyone ever again, there would be no basis for bonding. And if there was no bonding, then there would be no pain when those around him left him forever.

The footsteps echoed as they moved closer. He still didn't look away from the window.

Richard jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder. Before he could try to shake it off, he found himself being dragged out of his room and down the stairs into the kitchen. He blinked, and suddenly found himself sitting at the kitchen table, once again in front of his abandoned cereal bowl.

He looked up, and found himself staring at one of the most bizarre things he had ever seen. He was no stranger to clown jokes and pranks, but the clowns in the circus usually chose a member of the audience that was laughing at the pranks, just to make sure they actually got a reaction.

Never had he seen a clown prank someone as straight-laced as District Attorney Harvey Dent.

Standing absolutely stock still in apparent shock, was Harvey Dent, blinking comically through the layer of cream spread all over his face. Sitting on the table in front of him was an empty container of Cool Whip.

Richard switched his focus over to the grinning clown he had once called friend. Jack appeared to be waiting for a reaction to his impromptu prank on the D.A. Richard just blinked at him, then looked over at Harvey again, who was now trying to wipe off his face while spluttering in righteous indignation about getting a warning and rescinding his offer.

Jack ignored Harvey and continued to simply stare at Richard in explanation.

The young boy simply looked back at him for a moment, then, without a word, he rose from the table, and left the room. Jack's jaw dropped as he watched the lad walk back up the stairs to his room through the open kitchen door. How could he not laugh at that?

The last thing Richard heard from the two grown men as he shut his door was Harvey warning Jack to behave himself.

His voice rising in disbelief over Harvey's, Jack shouted, "How do you not laugh at the pie-in-the-face gag? Is it because it wasn't really pie?!"


End file.
